Sirius Black Has Better Things to Do
by AliBlack
Summary: Sirius Black probably never said more than a few words to me throughout all our time in Hogwarts, but I loved him. Oh, how I loved him. -- Of obsessive love, and a less-than-virtuous soul. -- Sirius/OC/Regulus


_Author's Note: - How Sirius' nonchalance about dating ruined one girl's life. I finally wrote something just a little twisted like my original work. I hope you enjoy. –_

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I apologize for any mistakes or inconsistencies - the only time I've had to write lately is in the middle of the night so I am always tired during my writing ventures._

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Sirius Black Has Better Things to Do

I loved Sirius since first year, when my bag split in the corridor and he actually stopped to pick up one of my textbooks for me. Funny, I think now as I look back, how little tiny moments like that will propel an eleven year old girl into a crush. He just picked up my book, handed it to me and said, 'Here.' Very romantic. He gave it to me, walked away, and never looked back.

He never looked back – not in the seven years we attended Hogwarts together. Not together, more so at the same time. Together would imply that we were friends or that we talked. We didn't.

I think once he asked me to hand him a satchel of powered petrified wood in Potions. He probably didn't even know my name.

So in first year, I decided I loved him because he was cute and I was easily satisfied. By second year the feelings had ebbed, as they always do. Third year I sat in his compartment on the train to Hogwarts, reading a book and glancing up every once in awhile – remembering the boy whom I would have declared undying love to when I was eleven. I laughed to myself and internally mocked childish fancy – but still, deep down inside I felt a strange nostalgia, as if he were an old acquaintance from a time in my life that was lovely and that I wanted to recapture. He was only an old acquaintance in my mind. Funny how you can form connections to people without ever really knowing them.

Later that year I had my first boyfriend – Scott. He had blushed and asked if he could hold my hand on the way to classes. I guess that's what counts for dating at that age. After a month we were no longer holding hands, and he just faded into the background.

Fourth year was the term in which I had my first kiss – Benjy Fenwick on a dare. I kissed him again in sixth year – another bout of nostalgia is what I chalk it up to. It's the past that you want to capture more than anything – more than have another kiss or that person in particular. You just feel an overwhelming sense of the familiar and you romanticize the connection – albeit disposable – between the two of you. So when the two of us were the only ones in our house to stay home over Christmas break, we chatted amiably for awhile – though we had been neither friends nor passing acquaintances – and then had ourselves a tryst in the common room. It was a short and lovely affair over those two weeks and one that neither of us regret nor wish to repeat. It was a good memory, and nothing more.

Sirius Black came back into my life toward the end of Fourth year. He and his friends, always playing pranks and gallivanting throughout the school, showboating and what have you all around. Students either admired them or were annoyed by their antics. I myself was not a part of their troupe of women followers – they were more a stable of community horses, waiting and willing to be ridden by any, whenever – but I did think them entertaining.

The bravado that disgusted my friends, seemed to charm me if ever so subtly. And I wonder if I only liked them because I thought of Sirius – thought of the boy whom I used to love and how attractive he still was, now grown older and good looks a bit more refined. He was handsome, wealthy, funny, intelligent – every girl's dream. I stayed back though, not wanting to be part of that entourage. I didn't love him, that I had realized, and I had better things to do than pine away over an attractive man who was more focused on hexing Slytherins than charming ladies.

But still, I wondered.

Fifth year gave me my first real boyfriend – two months of a real teenage relationship, and later on another for four months. They were smart, funny, each distinctive in their own way. I did care for them. Sometimes I would see Sirius and for a day once in awhile, think about him. In May of that year, I decided I had a crush on him for two weeks before casting it aside. Once or twice I thought about how long he had been popping in and out of my mind – all throughout my school career.

Sixth year was my affair with Benjy and a two month-long period after where I decided that I could be fine with out having a boyfriend and would only have passing broom cupboard romances when I felt like it. After two months without anything happening, I decided that was how the looser women live their lives.

Late in the year, Sirius would pop into my mind more frequently. His smile would cause me to smile. I laughed at his jokes long after they had been made and I was in another class altogether. And the nostalgia crept up again. I remembered that love from first year and I couldn't shake that warm feeling inside my stomach. He felt familiar because I had thought about him since I was eleven – even though we had never really talked.

A party, a little end of the year Quidditch party in Hufflepuff, was where it happened. It was late and most had left for their respective houses or had gone to bed. The lights were dim, intimate, and there were only ten or so people around, him and I included. Firewhisky had been passed around, and I could smell it on him as we sat on the couch, dying firelight dancing across each of our features. He looked fantastic, just because I could tell it was him – could smell his signature scent under the alcohol – and I loved the way his hair fell into his face. I'm sure the dim light made me unrecognizable – if he even could recognize me at all.

He was facing me, and I, him – and he asked me what house I was in and what year. Hufflepuff and his own. 'That's good,' he had said and moved closer. He was drunk – I could tell from the way he moved, but he was quiet and composed. I had hardly anything, but felt a slight coating of whimsy over the night that reminded me of those few drinks, though. He touched my cheek, gently, brushed a lock of hair out of my face and said, 'I'm going to kiss you now.'

I said, 'Okay.'

I thought this must have been like how it was for any of the other girls. They were nameless and faceless – but not objects. It wasn't decadence or disregard – just a moment in which life happened. He didn't think of me as some thing to catch and conquer, or a person any less whole than himself. He just took a moment and made the best of it. We kissed on that couch in front of that fire without promise of anything more – but it felt polite and it felt natural.

He was charming by then, not just the funny, carefree charming of fourteen, but the refined, friendly, and most of all, reserved charming of seventeen – a man.

The next day, I heard him at breakfast telling his friends he had blacked out and couldn't remember that night. My night. My one night of triumph. I had kissed Sirius Black. I had done something I was sure those stable girls that followed him and his friends around had never done. I am sure they had never actually been used by those boys – they swooned and sighed too much to have achieved their goals, and as much as everyone jokes about them, those boys were not the type to go to the easy ones.

Remus Lupin was too respectful – he was the one who took very nice, smart girls to the café to talk or the library to study. Peter Pettigrew had himself a girlfriend for most of that year – a shy but cute Hufflepuff a year below me named Greta. James Potter was with a few girls, all friendly and funny, but they parted ways relatively amiably after a few weeks each. And Sirius – he was not the dating type. Everyone one knows those – friendly, fun, boisterous, smart. He was not bothered in being single, and he didn't need an easy score.

The troupe of women was out of luck.

I was proud because I had what they had not – and I was proud because I had shared a special moment with a wonderful man. I felt a connection – and I felt like I was alone.

I cried. I had never cried over a boy in all the years up until then. When I had boyfriends, we broke up mutually. The two passing trysts I had had up until then, I had wanted no more of. There was nothing left wanting – but then. I cried when I realized how wonderful he was. I cried because I cared for a man I had never really spoken to. I loved him – I accepted this after a few weeks of feeling miserable – and he would never want me, nor would he ever remember our kiss.

I had a moment, and only a moment – and this time, I was not satisfied with a memory.

Perhaps that is what separates Sirius and Benjy – I was satisfied with the moment in time of Benjy. But Sirius captured my mind, he hijacked my thoughts, and leeched off of my heart. All through summer and fall and winter I tried to forget – I tried to move on – but I couldn't banish him.

There were many times I wished to quit him – and there were many times I wished to run to him in the corridor and beg him to be with me. But I didn't – no one ever does. Sometimes I would even go out of my way to find parties – ever so rare they were – he was going to, but after sixth year he had quit drinking, and would always leave early.

I was in love – and I had never really spoken to him.

I sunk to my lowest in March of seventh year. It was that Easter break that I had spent the day studying for N.E.W.T.s, so I was caught off guard – finally having a time where I was free of him.

Regulus was reading in the front of the library. He was young – a year younger than me, and a year younger than Sirius. He looked like him though and that made me smile. Something in the difference between a year – I felt small and insignificant near Sirius, but in control standing in front of his brother. He glanced up at me as I walked by as one does with passing strangers.

I couldn't help myself – I asked if he were Regulus Black. I asked, 'Aren't you the one who refined that Draught of Silence with Severus Snape?' and he said, 'It was mostly his idea.'

I nodded, but couldn't help myself. I asked if he knew of any parties. I heard the Slytherins keep their parties to themselves but I was dying of boredom, I told him. I didn't tell him that I had taken to drinking more than I used to.

And he looked up at me and shrugged. 'What's your name?' he asked, and I told him. 'No, your _last_ name,' he corrected, closing his book.

'Burke.'

'So you're a pureblood?'

I nodded. And he invited me to a party.

I drank, and I talked with Slytherins and a select few from other houses, all the while understanding why I had asked to go in the first place. He was arrogant in his own right, but underneath I saw a less confident interior. When I kissed him, he froze up – and when I offered to stay the night he stuttered in his response. It was cute in a quiet little way, and I wondered if he knew – you always wonder if they _know_ – that the only reason I slept with Regulus Black that night was because I loved his brother. In the dark, with the candlelight flickering through the little opening in the four-poster's curtains, he looked just like his brother.

And when he took his shirt off, I saw the black tattoo on his forearm and I knew what it was – but I didn't stop. Because he looked like Sirius – even the mark of a dark wizard looks like a harmless little tattoo in the night, just like the rune tattoos his brother liked to show off at the breakfast table.

And as we lay in his bed that night, I held him like I would have held Sirius. I kissed his neck, gently, like I would have kissed Sirius. The night was as blissful as I ever could have hoped for – the only thing better would have been the real thing. And he said to me, 'Is this only because you were drinking?'

I said, 'No, it's deeper than that.'

I thought that would be it. I thought I could take my little fix and quit him too.

He found me out by the lake, staring out at the water and thinking about my life. I had been joyful in my youth, and very content throughout the ensuing years – but then I felt miserable all the time. I had been a good student, then less so, then poor. Even my little moments of happiness were backed by an emptiness.

He stood next to me, looking out at the water for a long time. Then he turned and asked me to come inside because it was getting cold. I followed, and he took my hand in his – and I felt that nostalgia creeping up in me. His hand was so warm while the air around so chilly, that it became indicative of how connected I was to the moment. Alone, I would be lost in my thoughts, but his warm grip kept me focused – kept me connected to him.

He led me inside to dinner and as we entered the Great Hall hand in hand, we passed by James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius. And Sirius stopped.

He stared at his brother holding the hand of a girl – and he stared at me. For the first time in my life he actually looked at me – saw me – took it all in. Suddenly I had a face, nose, eyes, lips – and there was recognition in his eyes. He probably knew my name.

There was an electricity running through me as he stared – and I basked in the feeling. I squeezed Regulus' hand tighter before he led me over to the Slytherin table, and I smiled at him for the first time – not at the thought of Sirius, but at Regulus himself, because his touch had brought me recognition. Suddenly I was not the nameless, faceless once-upon-a-time – but I was Regulus' girl. He knew me – would know me – and I was happy.

Regulus asked me to Hogsmede, and we regularly spent nights in each other's rooms. The nostalgia made it easy and natural – I made love to him like I would have made love to Sirius. At meals sometimes I would look over at the Gryffindor table, and sometimes Sirius would look over at us. I straightened my back and ran my hand along his brother's spine – tingling with the knowledge that the man I loved was watching me.

I had spent six years invisible to him and all it took to become real was to sleep with his brother.

I went to a party alone one night - a Hufflepuff one, celebrating the end of the N.E.W.T.s – and he was there. He looked at me – looked me dead in the eye and came near.

He said, 'So you're dating my brother?' I nodded. He crossed his arms in front of himself. 'What is someone like you doing with an elitist piece of garbage like him?'

I froze for a moment. I wanted to tell him everything. He was mine – I felt like he was, more than he belonged to any other girl – and I wanted to let him know why. It would sound stupid if I tried to explain it to him – what everything meant – but so vivid and tethering to a teenage girl. And then, I regretted what I had done. I had appeased myself and I had lost him in a moment, though I don't think I could have ever had him either.

'You know, you kissed me once,' I said, instead of answering him. 'I know it meant nothing, and I know you were drunk and don't remember – but I thought you were amazing.'

Sirius looked down, a little confused as to what I meant. 'Oh.'

I took a deep breath and said, 'He looks like you.'

I wondered if there was disgust running though his mind – there probably was – or if he understood a little bit, that I could never have him and settled for second best.

How do you explain to a stranger that you love them for everything they are – and that you've bent your morals and drained away your future because of them? He was everything to me – and he was just part of the background, too. The only things truly real to me were the memory and his brother – Sirius had been nothing more than the familiar setting you don't think twice about. His life was completely separate from mine – and my tragedy was that there are certain people whom you are only meant to cross paths with a few times, and I was set on forcing destiny against the grain.

While he looked down, I walked away so that he wouldn't have to stay in the company of a fool like me, and I went back to Regulus.

I stayed in his room – and I went through the motions like always. He stroked my hair and talked to me quietly about nothing in particular while I thought about Sirius. He tipped my head up to meet his gaze.

And he looked at me with something like real love in his eyes. For a moment I felt so deplorable for what I had done. He loved me and I loved his brother. There was reverence and there was satisfaction – and I had given him nothing in return for his affection.

Once or twice he told me about why purebloods were better – why his brother was a blood traitor – why we would be standing at the top of the world in a few short years. With hard work we would purge the world of the scum, and rule like the royalty we deserved to be. And there was a wavering of his confidence sometimes when he spoke about it – as if it were a speech that he had rehearsed so many times that he had not the faintest idea the meaning of it anymore – and once in awhile he thought of what he was saying and wondered if it were true.

He was a boy – was all I could think – while I loved the man Sirius was, his brother was still a boy whose soul was fraught with naivety. And I loved him too – for he had brought me terrible recognition.

The moment Sirius saw me, he hated me.

That I am sure of – but also that there was a place in his heart for me – a little pity for the girl who loved him and betrayed him. A little bit of acceptance because I didn't really love his brother – I'm sure he felt good that I didn't really love Regulus, and it brought him satisfaction that I was his and not his brother's – even though he didn't want me either. Like how siblings steal the last piece of bread only so that the other can't have it.

Regulus was smart – but easily manipulated. And if I didn't know better, I would have thought I saw just a little sliver of good in him – just a little bit of his brother shining out. I did soon feel affection for him – I truly did. After a few weeks he was a little more than the faceless pawn.

Sometimes I hated myself when I remembered how I had been nothing more than an extra in this little stage production – the nameless love (non)interest, and once that next Act opened – playbill reading my name as the lead – I wrote Regulus as the stand-in, second string to the real power who had stepped out. He had taken my place as the space-filler, and I wondered if I should harden myself to fate since that's just how life works – or if I was solely to blame for the cast.

I could have resigned myself to loving him – and I may have changed his fate if I had – but I was weak (_am_ weak) and I never stopped loving Sirius. And soon after, I'm sure, Sirius forgot me once more. As he was a passing breeze in my life that I wished to caress my cheek forever – I was a harsh bitter one on his, that was left behind with the winter months and not thought of again.

In my head, sometimes, Sirius lives in my home – smiles when I wake up and look into his eyes. Sometimes we lie in bed in our pajamas; I put my reading glasses on and recite the Sports headlines for him, leaving the real news items for myself later on. We cook breakfast together, and he playfully dots pancake batter on my nose. In my head – everything's perfect.

And if I had been a little less selfish, I might have had Regulus. I might have kept the little piece of my Sirius. And I might have borne his children – children that would look like they had been Sirius'. But I was – am – will always be greedy, and will fight for the whole package, even if it means losing everything in the process. I waited too long – and then Regulus was declared missing – Sirius went to Azkaban. I lost them both, and they only really exist in my memory.

Sometimes I think about how I could go about breaking someone out of prison. It would mean the end of my career – my life as a proper, law-abiding citizen – oh, but wouldn't he be so grateful. Wouldn't it be the chance to show him how good I could be to him? Sometimes I daydream my plans while I'm at work.

Sometimes I wish he had died so that I could be truly free of him.

Everyone tells those stories – girl meets boy, girl and boy fall in love, girl and boy part ways in a beautiful tragedy. But no one tells my story – the one Sirius Black wouldn't even remember – the one no one but I would remember, or care about. Funny how he walked in and out one day and ruined my life. Maybe I've just been crazy all along.

Such is the tragedy of my life – because everyone loves Sirius Black, and Sirius Black had better things to do.


End file.
